The Answer to Our Life
by Katz Potter
Summary: A slightly humorous romance story set to songs. H/Hr, with a carzy Muggle girl who likes tinsel. Hermione's left the wizarding world, 'cause she thinks Harry's dead, then he comes back. Wow. R/R, please!
1. Prologue Home&Garden article kinda

DC: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/n:  Many thanks to Lily Vance, the bestest beta reader ever!

_***_

**_The Answer to Our Life_**

_Give me a reason, give me a sign_

_Tell me the way we fall out of line_

_Is it today, or is it tonight_

_We find_

_The answer to our life_

-Backstreet Boys 'The Answer To Our Life'

***

**_Prologue_**

All in all, Hermione Anne Granger liked her little house in London. It was blue, her favorite color, with yellow trimming. She had a small garden in front filled with lilies, daisies, and roses. In back was a large tree with thick, low branches. There was a tree house in the tree, not too high up. She loved to go there and reflect the day's events when things got to be too much. The inside of her little home was neat and clean. The living room, painted a soft blue, had nice, soft, blue furniture. The fireplace was clean and free of ash, and the mantel held a gold clock, a china figurine of a girl, and a porcelain doll.

The doll looked exactly like Hermione, and she was wearing a pale blue work suit, white stockings, and proper-looking black high heels. The heels, in real life, would be about an inch and a half. The doll's blouse was pale yellow, and her hair was pulled back in a braid. Hermione sometimes liked to take the doll down, and, with the utmost care, change its outfit, hairstyle, and shoes. She did that about once a month.

The kitchen was neat as a pin, with every dish and cooking object in its proper place. The counter was clear of crumbs, and the sink shone. The table had a checked blue and white tablecloth over it, and the cushions on the chairs matched perfectly. The oven mitts hung in the space between the cupboards and the counter, and the dish soap and cleaning supplies were properly under the sink. The stove, oven, and microwave all shone like new. Even though the definite age of the oven and stove were a mystery, she had brought the microwave with her when she had moved in a mere six years ago. The walls were painted white, and all the wood was a fine oak that shone.

The guestroom was painted a sandy brown, and had a pattern of roses along the walls. There was a nice, roomy closet that Hermione cleaned once a month, or when company was coming. The carpet was a soft off white, and the curtains matched the color of the roses, a pretty burgundy. As well, the sheets on the bed were burgundy, and the pillowcases, too. The comforter was white with a foreground of even more burgundy roses with dark green stems. The bedstead was a nice oak, and matched the bedside table, chair, and desk. The lampshades were dark green, and there was a dark green dresser in the corner with a basket of fake roses on top.

Hermione's study was wallpapered with blue paper with a foreground of yellow lilies. There was a shelf of books in the corner, and floor was wood, so that her chair moved around easily. There was an oak desk in the far corner with a computer of the latest technology upon it. A lamp was right next to the monitor, and a file cabinet stood right next to the desk. There was a desk nearer to the door upon which there was nothing but a mug that said _'Why let men do all the work? We women are just as good!'_ with a number of pens and pencils in it. There was also a lamp, and set of boxes, one for finished, and an empty one for unfinished paperwork upon it. There were a couple more file cabinets, and that was all.

The main bathroom was actually quite plain. The shower curtain, towels, and the fuzzy bathroom mats were all navy blue. The walls, sink, shower/tub, toilet, hinging racks, and the woodwork were white. Everything was carefully stored under the sink except for the soap. The walls and floor were tiled with white tiles.

Now, I bet some of you are about to go and look for another story, because all this entire fic does so far is describe Hermione's house. Don't leave yet, I'm almost finished. There's just her bedroom, the garage, and the attic left.

I believe that most of you think that the garage is one of the messiest rooms in a house. Well, Hermione's garage is very clean. All her yard supplies were hung neatly in a corner; all her tools sat on a shelf in the back. Her trashcans were stowed neatly in another corner. She swept the floor monthly.

It is possible to think that Hermione Anne Granger is a neat freak. That is somewhat true. But she does not go running after someone with a broom just because they got one little spot on her clean carpet.

While Miss Granger's attic was the _only _place in the house that needed cleaning, her bedroom was painted blue, and had daisies around the walls. The carpet was a matching blue, and there was a nice walk-in-closet and a number of cedar dressers. As well, Her bedstead and nightstand were a red cedar, as well. The lamps were pale yellows, painted to match the daisies. The sheets on her bed were pale shades of yellow, and the comforter was blue with a foreground of yellow daisies. There were a number of bundles of dried flowers hung around the room. The room smelled fragrant.

The only thing Hermione Anne Granger didn't like about her little home on Carter Road in London was a picture that stood on a dresser directly across from her bed. It was a picture of her and a young man with silver framed glasses, bright green eyes, and messy black hair that stuck up in the back. That young man was the person who had made her move into this little blue house. He was the man who had brought her previous life to a screeching halt. He had ruined it. That young man who had his arm around her was-would still be, if he hadn't run off-the love of her life. She hated that picture, but she kept it there out of respect, for that young man was now dead.

On particular mornings, she loved that picture. On others, she simply loathed it. This morning was one of them.


	2. From the Bottom of My Broken Heart

DC: Right, same as the prologue, except Tonya, Aaron, Michelle, and the little voice in Hermione's head all belong to moi.  Also, the song belongs to Britney Spears, and 'The Answer to Our Life' belongs to BSB.

A/n:  ALSO, please to not relate the part at the end of this chapter to Mena Baines.  (I'm really sick of it.  Sorry, but I am.  It is more properly taken from the movie _Practical Magic_.  At least, that's what I prefer.  In the beginning, I never even stopped to think where I got it from.  Anyways, I'm giving it all away, so I'll shut up now.

**Chapter 1: From the Bottom of My Broken Heart **

_***_

_Never look back, _

_They say_

_How was I to know?_

_I'd miss you so?_

Britney Spears 'From The Bottom of My Broken Heart'

***

~~~~~

Hermione woke that morning to the buzzing of her alarm clock with a splitting headache. She sighed and glared at the picture of her and the smiling young man.

She jumped out of bed, which only made her head throb more and yelled at the picture, "Why must you torment me? It isn't as if I've had enough tragedies in my life, and then you go running off and get yourself killed!_"_ The only response was the continuous smiling of the picture. That smiling annoyed her. "Stop smiling at me! Look at what you've done to me! After you died, I snapped my wand, quit my job, and became a Muggle!" She was now screaming. "And I DO care! I'm a bloody secretary! Do you honestly think that's what I dreamt of? What I _really_ dreamt of was getting married to you. Which I was, and it was the best time of my life! I dreamt of having five children, living a healthy and prosperous life, and dying peacefully in my sleep! And look at me! I'm single, almost twenty six, and I've become even more of a neat freak, mainly because I haven't got anyone to coax me out of cleaning this whole bloody house with antiseptic!"

At this, Hermione broke down and began to sob. All the while the voice in the back of her head jostled with her. _If you'd only get out more, you wouldn't be such a neat freak_, it said. _It isn't his fault. It's yours. And now, look where your hatred for that poor boy has gotten you. If it weren't for Tonya, Aaron, Michelle, Natalie, and Shannon, you'd have a pretty downcast life. If you really want to reconcile your feelings for him, then you should better get rid of your wizarding stuff up in the attic. _

Hermione sighed and slowly tried to calm herself down. Once that was at least somewhat achieved, she went over to her closet, where she picked a light gray suit and a white blouse for work. She quickly showered, dressed, and made herself breakfast.

Some five minutes later, while Hermione was eating her solitary breakfast, the doorbell rang. She reluctantly got up to go answer it. After looking through the peephole to make sure it was the really postman and no mystery demon, she slowly opened the door.

"May I help you?" She asked the man curtly.

"Yes. I've got a strictly confidential letter and package here for a Miss Hermione A. Granger," the postman replied.

"This is her."

"I'll need some ID." At this, Hermione retrieved and held out her driver's license.

"All right, If you'll sign here, ma'am." He held out a clipboard and a pen. She swiftly signed it and accepted the package and letter.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." And with a flourish, the postman seemed to dissappear. 

She slowly shut the door, and put the other mail on the table. With hands shaking, and a heart full of dread she opened the letter. She read it aloud in a whisper.

"_Dear Miss Granger:_

_It is to my knowledge that you believe that your fiancé, Harry J. Potter, is dead. That is very much untrue. He is alive and well, and will be coming to your house on the afternoon of Saturday, September 12. He will arrive at about three o' clock. Please have a room ready for him. He has sent this package and a note, which is enclosed._

_Yours truly,_

_Percy Weasley_

_Minister of Magic_."

She stared at the letter.

"No," she whispered. "He's dead." _And if he isn't, isn't he a little behind schedule? _she thought. _It's been four years_. "I won't believe that he's alive. I won't," she added aloud. Hermione then reached for the package, which was rather small, and opened it. She pulled out the piece of parchment and sat down with the package next to her.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I know you believe me to be dead, and I know that you're now living as a Muggle. You snapped your wand, and, if I am correct, disposed of any magical objects within your possession. _

"Ha!" She couldn't believe what a load of crap this was. It was most definitely a cruel joke. But she read on anyhow. 

_Hermione, you can pretend to be a Muggle, and hide from the wizarding world, but you can't hide from me. Why? Because. I LOVE YOU. I'm sorry that I allowed you to think I was dead, but Voldemort was after me, and I didn't want you harmed._

_Hermione, I sent you this package as a token of my love. Do you remember the watch you gave me, on Christmas in our seventh year? The one that had, inscribed on the back: _

_'Harry- My love to you forever and always. _

_Love, Hermione'? _

_Well, I'm giving it back to you._

_My love to you forever and always,_

_Harry James Potter_

Unbelieving, Hermione bit her lip to hold back the usual flow of tears that came whenever she thought of Harry. Then she went into the kitchen to call work.

"Hello, Granger Dentistry," pleasant female voice answered. Hermione smiled through the tears that were flowing down her face. The speaker was Tonya, her best friend. She had a little brother and a younger sister living with her in a three-bedroom apartment.

"Hey, Tonya? It's me, Hermione. Look, I can't come in to work today." she said in a shaky voice.

"Oh, hi! Why can't you come in? Family prob-oh,"-she had just realized the reason of her shaky voice-"Harry, right?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, voice thick with tears.

"Oh. Okay. Listen, can I come over later to console you over the loss of your dear husband to be four years ago?" Hermione gritted her teeth. Tonya always loved to joke around, and she was pleasant all the time. Sometimes it was just conveniently very annoying.

"Yes, of course. Go ahead. Don't forget to tell Mum and Dad I won't be there. Just say it's love problems. If they ask what kind, just say it's my business. They know that I like to have my privacy."

"Okay. Bye. I'll be over at about five. Aaron and Michelle will have to fend for themselves. See you later."

_Click. _

Hermione hung up the phone and went back into the living room to look at Harry's package. She pulled out a red velvet box, opened it, and gasped at what she saw.

A glittering gold watch, which looked like it was just made. Hermione carefully took it out of the box and turned it over. Yes, there was the inscription.

"_My love to you forever and always_," she whispered. "Bah. I give the most famous guy in the wizarding world my love, and look where it's gotten me." She put the watch back, then went into her study to check her e-mail.

"Let's see.... Tonya-a card saying get well soon and a load of spam. Humph!" She quickly got off the Internet and decided to put on some work clothes and clean the attic. As she walked up the stairs, she thought of Harry.

'_I really can't believe Percy would do that. Honestly! Harry's dead, not alive_!' She sighed as she opened the door. Stepping into the attic, she looked around. A trunk sat in the corner, covered with a thick layer of dust. Hermione walked over to it slowly and lifted the lid. She carefully lifted out a picture that lay on top. It was a picture of her, Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

"God, I miss you guys so much," she whispered, holding the picture to her chest. How could she have ever left them? How could she have deserted her friends? How? The more she thought about them, the more she wanted to go back. Back to the wizarding world.

Hermione mentally shook herself. "I'm not going back," she decided aloud. "I swear it upon this trunk." She knew she ought to get rid of the trunk, but.... it had too many good memories.

"Oh, Herm-i-oh-nee!" a voice yelled from the bottom of the stairs, stressing every syllable of her name. Hermione quickly replaced the picture and locked the trunk, pretending to be dusting. There were loud footsteps.

"Geeze Louise, it's dusty up here," Tonya said as her head appeared. "No wonder you keep the door to the attic-Hey, what's that?" She had just spotted the trunk.

"Just something my mum gave to me a while back," Hermione replied casually, dusting off the window.

"It looks really old. Is it antique?"

"No."

"What's inside?"

"Nothing special. End of discussion about trunk." There was a tone of finality in her voice that made Tonya shut up.

"Go get the broom," Hermione ordered. Tonya went and got it. "Now, sweep the floor." Tonya swept.

They cleaned the house for the rest of the day.

***

A week later, the house was sparkling. Literally. Tonya, in preparation of the wonderful return of Hermione's once thought to be dead fiancé had put up tinsel.

_Tinsel. _

Hermione had always thought her friend was a bit messed up. Now she was sure of it.

"Tonya, what is it with you and tinsel?" she asked from the kitchen, where she was making them a late lunch.

"I dunno, I just like it," Tonya replied. The doorbell rang.

"Can you get that? I'm a little busy."

"Yeah, sure." Tonya went to the door and opened it. Then she could be heard saying, "Sweet Mary, mother of God."

"Who is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's...." Tonya gulped. "I think it's him."

"Well, show him in; have him sit down," Hermione replied.

She heard Tonya bring him in and say, "You sit there, and I'll go get her."

Tonya appeared in the kitchen doorway. "He's here. I think."

"Watch lunch for me, will you?"

"Sure."

Hermione walked into the living room. He was standing, looking at the doll on the mantel, which was dressed in a flowery sundress, white sandals, and sunglasses. The doll's hair was loose and flowing around its shoulders. He turned upon hearing her approach.

Her throat tightened. It was him. But that nasty little voice in her mind wouldn't let her accept that everything was okay now that he was here. _It might be a trick,_ it said nastily. _This might be someone trying to kill you or rape you, or do who knows what other terrible thing. You'll want to find out if it really is him before you run and kiss him._

Oddly enough, Hermione agreed with the voice for once.

"You're going to have to prove to me that you really are Harry," she said, her voice hard. Harry pulled back his bangs, so that she could see his scar. She laughed. "Anyone can do that."

Harry walked forward. "Hermione, do you really need proof to know that it's me? Don't you know it in your heart?"

She held up a hand. "Don't come any closer."

He stopped. "Hermione... please. Listen; it's me. I'm not dead, I'm here. For you, only you. I love you. You do know that, right?" 

Hermione blinked rapidly. She hated to do this to him, but she had to know. "I'll need more proof than that."

Harry was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, "Could I see your right hand?" She held it out to him, and he gently traced over the scar across her palm. "Remember the night when I asked you to marry me and we--we declared our undying love for each other over blood? We both slit our palms, and put them together. My blood, your blood, remember?"

She nodded, holding back tears. He held out his right hand, palm up, for her to see. There was the scar. "You and I both know that no one else knows about these scars. Is this proof enough for you?"

She stared at him in shock. And then promptly fainted into his arms.


	3. I Promise You

DC: Same as the first chapter and the prologue, 'cept 'I Promise You' belongs to BSB, and the mushy and crazy comments belong to me.

A/n: 'Mon amie' means 'my friend' in French.

**Chapter 2: I Promise You**

***

_I promise you_

_From the bottom of my heart_

_I will love you_

_Till death do us part_

Backstreet Boys 'I Promise You'

***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

_"Could I see your right hand?" She held it out to him, and he gently traced over the scar across her palm. "Remember the night when I asked you to marry me and we--we declared our undying love for each other over blood? We both slit our palms, and put them together. My blood, your blood, remember?" _

_She nodded, holding back tears. He held out his right hand, palm up, for her to see. _

_There was the scar. "You and I both know that no one else knows about these scars. Is this proof enough for you?"_

_She stared at him in shock. And then promptly fainted into his arms._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry deftly caught her. Tonya came running out of the kitchen, ladle in hand.

"What'd you do to her?" she demanded. "If you hurt her, I swear I'll...." She trailed off, waving the ladle threateningly.

Harry gently laid Hermione down on the couch, before turning to Tonya. "I didn't hurt her, I merely shocked her." 

"Well, that's just as bad as hurting her! You made her faint!" Tonya screeched, waving the ladle some more.

"Well, wouldn't _you_ faint if your thought to be dead fiancé suddenly appeared in your living room?" Harry returned.

"Well, yes, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?"

"Oh, forget it," Tonya muttered, going back into the kitchen.

Harry sat down on the floor next to couch, looking at Hermione all the while. "Oh, darling," he murmured, "how could I have ever left you?"

"You know, that's a good question," said Tonya, who had come back into the living room.

Harry stood up. "And why, pray tell, must you listen to my conversations?" he snapped. This caused Tonya to throw her ladle at him. It hit him in the chest. "OW!"

"Well, you deserved it. One, for leaving your wife-to-be, two, for pretending you were dead, three, for making the poor dear faint, and four, snapping at me."

Hermione stirred. Harry and Tonya were quiet. They looked at her. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Harry?" she asked softly. Harry rushed to her side and knelt, so that he was face to face with her. "Hi."

"Hello, love."

"Why'd you leave me?"

"Voldemort was getting closer. I didn't want him to hurt you." Harry kissed her cheek. "My boss.... Well, she thought that it would be better for you if I were dead. She planned it all out. I wanted to tell you so much that it was hard to keep it a secret."

"Oh, Harry.... Where'd you go?"

"I had to leave in the dead of night. A fake me battled Lucius Malfoy and died. When I left, I went to the last place anyone would look."

"Where?"

"Godric's Hollow."

"But.... Harry, that's where your parents died!"

"Exactly. No one would look there because that's the last place they'd think I would go to. I changed my name and my appearance, and I kept close surveillance on you. I also corresponded with my boss, asking her every letter if I could come back to you. God, Hermi," he whispered, using his nickname for her, "I missed you so much, it was sometimes too hard for me to keep on living without you by my side."

There was a large sniffle behind them. Harry and Hermione looked up. Tonya stood there, her eyes shining.

"I'm sorry," muttered Tonya, wiping her eyes. "That was just the sweetest thing I've ever heard. Excuse me." She rushed off into the kitchen, where she could be heard blowing her nose. Harry grinned and continued. However, tears had sprung into Hermione's eyes, too.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried, and hugged him tightly, letting the tears flow free. He hugged her back.

"Shh, it's all right," he whispered. She nodded against his chest and pulled away.

"She finally allowed me to come back to you. She notified Percy to notify you, and I sent him my watch and my note to prove to you that it was really me. Apparently, the watch did not work."

Hermione smiled ruefully. "Nope, it didn't."

Harry smiled back and took her left hand in his. Gingerly, he looked at it. "You're not wearing it," he murmured.

"I wore it for about a year before I took it off, because I figured you were never coming back to me," she replied softly.

"Do you still have it?" She nodded and rose.

"Follow me."

He followed her into her bedroom, where she went to one of the cedar dressers and rummaged through the top drawer. She pulled out a small, navy blue box. "Here it is." He took it and opened it. There the ring lay, with a diamond in the center, and two sapphires on each side.

"Oh, wow," Hermione breathed. "I'd forgotten how beautiful it was."

"It looked even more beautiful on your finger," replied Harry quietly.

Hermione sighed. "I know."

"Hermione, I want to make this work, you and me. But I don't know if you're up to it. It might take a lot of work." His eyes searched hers intently.

"If it means being together again, then I'm ready to take up the challenge," she said quietly, smiling.

"I love you," whispered Harry, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"I love you, too," Hermione replied against his chest.

He pulled away, gently lifting her chin. Cinnamon eyes met emerald, and then closed as the two young people shared their first kiss in four years.

"Ahem." Harry and Hermione broke apart, somewhat startled. Tonya stood in the doorway, looking down at the floor. "Have you stopped?" she asked, not looking up.

"Yes," replied Hermione with a grin.

"Okay," replied Tonya, looking up at last. "I--well, you know... didn't want to intrude, but dinner's ready."

"All right," said Hermione.

"So, did y'all have a nice snog?" Tonya added, very cheerfully.

"That, _mon amie_, is not of your business," replied Hermione, walking out of the room.

As they walked into the kitchen, Harry glanced around. "Hermi, what's with all this tinsel?"

"Ask Tonya. It was _her_ idea."

"I like tinsel," Tonya said, serving him.

"Uhh... right."

"Welcome to the insanity of Hermione's friend," she added.

Harry chuckled and took a bite, before immediately spitting it back out.

"What in the world is this?"

"It was supposed to be beef stew, but I think Tonya botched it up."

"Hey!"

Harry and Hermione laughed.

"I'm sorry Tonya, but you know it's true," replied Hermione with a grin.

"Oh, fine. I suck at cooking, all right?"

"Say, why don't we go out somewhere, my treat?" asked Harry.

"No, no, I'll just whip up a batch of spaghetti," said Hermione, getting up.

"No, we're going out. I don't want to make you work any more than you have." Harry stood up, too.

"It's _fine_, Harry! Spaghetti is easy to make, and it won't take more than fifteen minutes." Hermione was reaching into the cupboard. Harry caught her hand. She looked at him.

"We're going out to eat, and I'm paying," he said quietly, his face serious.

She sighed. "All right. But where can we go?"

"How about that little place that we used to go to all the time?"

"Harry, Tonya's a Muggle," Hermione whispered.

Tonya had no idea what Hermione had just said about her, but she sure wasn't going to let it slip.

"What did you call me?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"I said you're trouble... it's a seafood place; you don't like seafood," Hermione replied hastily.

"Oh. Okay."

"McDonalds?"

"No, Harry! That's so...."

"Cheap? Junky? Utterly disgusting?" Harry was grinning.

Hermione smiled and kissed his cheek. "All three. Let's go to... Greenleaf Palace!"

Harry looked at her, his smile lighting up his face. "An absolutely splendid idea! Come, my darling, and don your finest apparel. I shall don mine, and we will send your lovely Tonya to acquire hers!"

"Meet us here at six, all right?" Hermione asked her friend.

"Of course, and I shall have decked the halls, ye bonny lass!" With that cheerful statement that made absolutely no sense at all, she left.

Hermione smiled up at her long lost lover. "That made absolutely no sense."

He grinned. "I know."

"And why did you get that pompous air on?"

He shrugged. "'Cause I felt like it, I guess."

"I love you." They kissed again.

"Perhaps we can make this work," he murmured when they had finished.

"Yes, perhaps we can," she replied softly, looking lovingly into his eyes.


End file.
